


An Impulsive Assassin is an Idiot

by survivorcharm



Category: Danganronpa, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Assassin Rantaro Amami, Astronaut Shuichi Saihara, Fluff, Is there angst??? idk dude im winging this sorry, Mentions of Injuries, Rantaro i stg stop worrying your bf, Rantaro is impulsive, Rug burn mention, Saimami, Shuichi is just worried for his boyfriend, This is a talentswap au!, amasai, slight gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:40:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27567622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/survivorcharm/pseuds/survivorcharm
Summary: He was always impulsive when dealing with his tasks, wasn't he?As he sits and watches Saihara patch up his arm, they both share a moment with each other. Soon enough, Amami begins to realize something.
Relationships: Amami Rantaro/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 42





	An Impulsive Assassin is an Idiot

**Author's Note:**

> yo! please remember to read the tags before reading, just in case you're triggered by any of the topics written.

"..Saihara, you're wrapping the bandage too tightly."

"S-sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Hey, don't apologize."

The shaky astronaut undid the now bloody soaked bandages he had been securing onto the other's arm. He swiftly took the material off, and balled it up in his hands. He tossed it into the trash bin, which was placed next to the bed. 

"You know, you didn't have to throw that away-"

"Right, right, I just.." A huff came from the bluenette, before he grasped the bandage roll that sat in his first aid kit. "I'd prefer to give you fresh bandages."

Gently, Saihara began to wrap the cloth around Amami's bleeding arm, which had been littered with cuts and harsh rug burns. The boy had cleaned the wounds previously, but the blood had continued to leak. His scrawny hands shivered in fear, as he was afraid of injuring the assassin more. 

Amami watched as the other worked on his arm. From what he could see, the greenette concluded that the astronaut was... doing quite poorly on treating his injuries. Though, he didn't have the heart to break the news to him. Besides, his lover simply taking the time to patch him up was enough. He could just teach him first aid more properly at a later date. For now, he looked in silence.

A guilt feeling caused his throat to dry, and his palms became clammy. The worried expression written on Saihara's face didn't help, and instead made him resent this moment. He shouldn't be doing this, and yet he is. 

Amami knew he was truly blessed to have someone like Saihara. Someone who, despite knowing his job and what he does, trusts and cares for him. Someone who didn't express cowardice once the greenette confessed that fateful and horrifying night, when he came back into the dorms bruised and heavily bleeding. The asshole he was tasked to murder that night was quite a fighter, to say the least. If he wasn't so reckless, perhaps his loving boyfriend wouldn't have to keep such a daring secret from everyone. 

That would've been for the better, wouldn't it off? Carefully hiding away in the shawdows, so no one knew who he truly was; a cold, blooded killer. It would keep them all safe and sound, and no threat could come their way due to Amami's presence.

Of course, though, Amami was foolish.

He was always impulsive at the wrong times, which led to one of the only people he could trust being in potential danger. By suddenly discovering who the assassin was, Saihara had caught himself in a much steeper hole than he could ever imagine. 

Saihara always knew his partner was a suspicious individual. The scars and secretive demeanor was a key factor. The way he'd refuse to let anyone enter his room, and how he was always protective over his past— they were all dead giveaways that Amami was not the teen he appeared to be. 

But he would never imagine the discovery he made when his nosiness got the best of him, and he snuck into the other's room. 

His findings led to multiple files of information involving missing people and murders. There was even a board pinpointing locations of different people, and little sticky notes listing the horrible crimes they'd committed in secret. Though, none of the papers or lists concerned Saihara. No, there was one significant detail in the room that scrambled the astronaut's thoughts.

It was the amount of weapons that laid against the wall, near his boyfriend's bed. It knocked the air out of Saihara's body, as his eyes widened in confusion and fear. 

Before he could investigate further, he could recall hearing the doorknob rattle, and click open.

Oh, the following events that came were simply troubling. 

It was surprising, really, when Amami didn't quickly dispose of Saihara's body to hide his identiy. No, instead, the assassin straightforwardly confessed, and expected for the latter to expose him to his classmates, or possibly the police.

It was pleasent when they both agreed to do a third option: keeping it all a secret. 

So, now here they were, sitting in Saihara's space themed bed, with black walls and a galaxy celling. The lights were dimmed, with only a lamp next to them being on. Though, it was a normal amount of light source for the both of them to watch Saihara continuously wrap bandages around Amami's hurt arm. 

After a few more seconds of circling, Saihara cut the cloth with sissors, and organized the bandages so it wouldn't become loosened. He shuffled the medical equipment around, fitting each item he used back into the box. His flimsy fingers shut the lid, locked it, and placed the kit onto the floor.

For a moment, there was an awkward silence. This was usually what occurred once the astronaut was done with caring for Amami. It was a barrier, stopping them both from speaking. 

There were comments Saihara wanted to share and ask. Such as,  _ what the fuck happened? _ Or,  _ could you please explain why you came back with multiple rug burns and cuts all over your arm?  _

Nothing fell from his mouth. He only shifted uncomfortable under Amami's slight glare, which was accidental, but still appeared intimidating. 

Saihara crisscrossed his legs and played with the bottoms of his pants. He didn't know what to do at the moment. The greenette seemed to be spaced out, as he stared at the starry bedsheets. It wasn't out of the ordinary. He normally loses himself around the navy haired boy, since those moments are the only times he feels truly relaxed. 

The astronaut sighed, and laid his head against the void colored wall that the bed was pushed against. He could feel his eyelids flutter and struggling to remain open. It was currently 3 AM, after all. Amami had arrived at his dorm and invited himself in at 2:45 AM, and awoke Saihara. The sight of his boyfriend sweating and deathly pale immediately snapped him out of any sleepy dazy that threatened him. Now, though, sleep was screaming in his head. But it would be impolite to randomly drift into slumber, wouldn't it? He shook his head, and glanced at Amami, who still stared at the bedsheets.

"...Amami-kun?" He spoke almost in a whisper, but loud enough to be heard.

"Hm?" The greenette snapped out of his head, and lifted his head to glimpse at Sahara. "Oh, was I spacing out again? Haha, sorry about that." 

The bluenette smiled lightly. The assassin was still his casual self, or, at least it seems. A soft yawn came from his lips as he began to reply. "Ah, no, it's fine.." 

The boy reached over for Amami's left hand, and held it gently. He was never the type to act affectionate— or, at least, never start the affection. Though, his sleepy trance had taken over his actions at the moment. He rubbed Amami's knuckles in a circular motion, and admired the freckles that scattered beautifully on his skin.

"Do you need water? I keep a pack in the closet." Saihara gave the other a concerned expression. "You're probably thirsty from running to the dorms, right?"

A hum and a head shake was his response. "No, I'm fine. I can survive." 

An easy lie. The space boy could see right through the walls Amami put up. Sighing, he released the grip he had on his boyfriend's hand, and scooted himself off the bed and walked towards the closet. 

"Hey, I said-"

"I know," he pulled open the crack door, and shuffled through his button ups and shirts. "But, I think you should drink something. I don't want you to become dehydrated."

His hands found the water pack on the floor. He gripped onto two unopened bottles, which felt slight cold from the temperature of the room. With light steps, he closed the door against his shoulder, and waddled back to the bed as his sweatpants dragged along the carpet floor.

He seated himself on the empty left side of the bed, and handed Amami the water, who accepted it slowly. They both twisted the cap, Saihara having a tad bit of trouble while Amami opened his bottle with ease.

The bluenette still couldn't grip onto the cap properly. His face flushed from embarrassment, and he hoped his boyfriend wasn't looking. Unfortunately for him, he was, and he was entertained by the situation. 

The assassin laughed in a barely audible tone, but it still found its way into Saihara's ears. The pink on his cheeks formed into a more cherry like look as he felt more humiliated. His hand that was around the tight bottle went up to his face, hiding his eyes. 

"Shut up," he groaned out sheepishly. "It's not my fault, the cap is too tight.." 

"Or maybe you're just too weak," the greenette suggested in a sarcastic way. He could hear a small _"hey!"_ come from Saihara in response, but he blocked it out as he placed his water down, then reached over and took the bottle the other had. In a single second, the cap had been removed effortlessly. 

Twisting the bottle shut softly, Amami handed the water back to the astronaut. He smirked at the latter, who just averted his faded amber eyes and took back the bottle. "..Thank you, Mr. Show Off."

"Pfft, my pleasure." The taller one of the two chuckled, which caused Saihara to also smile. 

Amami gripped onto his water, and gulped it down his throat quickly. The boy hadn't realized it, but his body had definitely been craving liquid for quite a bit. He sighed once the bottle was now a quarter way empty. After setting the bottle on the floor next to the bed, his emerald eyes glanced at Saihara, who had also been drinking. "..But seriously, thank you."

Saihara glimpsed up at him curiously. The greenette's uninjured hand gestured towards his arm. "For helping me, I mean. You, uh, really didn't have to. I could've just done it myself and headed back to my roo-"

The boy speaking was interrupted by a soft warmth enveloping him around his chest, carefully avoiding his bandaged arm.

"I'm always glad to help, Amami-kun." Saihara spoke in a reassuring muffled tone. "Er, or, try..."

Amami sighed, and returned the gesture with his good conditional arm. He kissed the top of his boyfriends head, and buried his face in his navy hair. "You know you don't have to, right?"

"Of course I do. You've told me a thousand times." The smaller one snuggled his head into Amami's shoulder, enjoying the smell of his somehow still remaining honey and cinnamon scent. "But I will, because.."

He huffed into the greenette's blue sweater. "You're impulsive sometimes, and you worry me." 

And, really, Amami couldn't say a word. Nothing to defend himself, because his boyfriend was right. He's incredibly impulsive. Too stubborn to notice it, and too focused on his tasks instead of thoroughly thinking before acting on his plans.

He was too impulsive, and it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he would be dead without Saihara. Without Saihara, he'd be bleeding out in his dorm, because he had run out of medical supplies the other day, and he couldn't just ask someone for theirs. 

Without Saihara, he'd be a hopeless, reckless assassin, dying on the floor from dehydration.

And he couldn't deny it. He was horribly impulsive.

"Sorry," he muttered, "I guess you're dealing with an impulsive assassin for now."

"Only impulsive? I'd say also an idiot."

A fit of laughter filled the room from both of them, and Amami couldn't help but nudge his boyfriend playfully and ruffle his hair. "You dork." 

The chuckling only increased as they both couldn't get enough of each other's silly banter. They both grinned brightly, and held themselves together in a loving embrace once again. 

For now, they didn't have to acknowledge the fact that Amami stumbled into the room bleeding. They didn't have to worry about where the assassin had been, and how he'd almost began walking towards Death's doorstep that night.

For now, they smiled, huddled close to each other as if one more impulse would shatter their life, and hoped for them both to be happy.

And at the moment, Amami thought.

Maybe, just maybe, he should think of his impulses. Perhaps, he should take into account about how Saihara will be waiting for him to return from a task, and ready to embrace him and never let go for hours. 

Maybe, he should worry about how his impulses may lead to him losing this lovely warmth feeling in his stomach. How it'll rip him apart from this delightful emotion.

And maybe, Amami should be less impulsive for the person he loves most.

For the person he adores, he should realize his impulses. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you read this entire thing, i hope you enjoyed haha. this is my first oneshot posted on this website, and i hope it was nice enough. feel free to give criticism. im always opened to improving my work.
> 
> thank you for reading. 💚💙


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